


Time For Jello

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s11e04 The Lost Art Of Forehead Sweat, F/M, post-ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 07:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13477080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Post-ep for TLAOFS: Mulder tries the jello.





	Time For Jello

“I wanna remember how it was. I wanna remember how it all was.” Scully’s smile is wistful, her sigh, too. Mulder watches her, can’t help but smile too. He does remember. Maybe not all of it; definitely not the way she does. Some of it, anyway. His eyes drift to the spoon in his hand. The jello wobbles, threatens to fall off. If there’s one thing he is not in the mood for tonight it’s cleaning off dark red jello off the floor.

“Can I try it?” Mulder asks her. This is her thing. Her memories. He doesn’t want to intrude; he needs to be invited in.

“Of course.” She says, her voice raspy. She watches him intently as if he were her very own science project. The jello wobbles again, or maybe that’s just his own shaky hand, but he manages to bring the spoon to his mouth. His eyes are on hers as the cold dessert slips past his lips. It stays on his tongue, feels strange. Fox Mulder, who has tasted evidence and all kinds of foreign substances, is unsure what to think of a spoonful of cherry jello.

“How is it?” Scully asks him, her eyes wide and curious. She leans closer to him, inspects him.

“Good?” The jello is still in his mouth. When was the last time he even had jello, he wonders. He tastes the sweet taste of cherries and struggles to swallow. “Mulder? You look like you’re about to be sick.” Scully puts her hand on his thigh and even though they’ve been doing this, this whole let’s date thing, he startles and finally, he swallows the jello.

“You really love this?” He asks and wishes he’d brought a beer to wash it down with. Then he sees Scully’s face and wishes he’d never said anything. “I mean it’s good. I guess I’m just not much of a jello person.”

“Mulder, you eat everything.” She stares at the jello. At her untouched spoon. She wants to remember how it was. Mulder understands that; if she doesn’t try it now, it can never change. Never. But the temptation remains. He takes her spoon and she watches him again with hungry eyes.

“I have an idea, Scully. Do you trust me?” She gives him a look that seems to say don’t be ridiculous and he grins. Of course. Mulder puts the spoon into his mouth. The jello is warmer now, the taste no longer a surprise. The surprise, this time, is Scully’s face when he leans over and puts his mouth over hers. Her lips open under his and the jello falls apart between them. The jello is sweeter now, or maybe that’s just Scully, and he surrenders to the explosion of flavors in his mouth. When it’s all gone, the cherry merely a memory on their tongues, a new one to cherish, the kiss slows down. Scully’s hands are on his thighs now, going up, up, and Mulder moans. His own hands aren’t idle, slide over and right under her sweater. Scully chuckles against his lips and breaks the kiss. Mulder is reluctant to let go, desperate for seconds, but she puts a hand on his chest.

“Wipe that smile off your face, Mulder.” Scully says, amusement evident in every syllable.

“Hm, no,” he grins at her, “tastes good.”

“Does it now.”

“Is it… at all like you remember? Should I not have…?” Mulder leans back to give her some space, uncertain, now. He doesn’t ask what he’s really thinking; does she regret it? Any of it? She bites her lip, seems to think about his question.

“What I remember is so much…Mulder, no, it’s not…” She trails off, shakes her head. When she turns to him he sees tears in her eyes, unshed but not unhappy. There’s a wobbly smile around her red, thoroughly kissed lips. He wonders if he gets to kiss her again tonight. “I don’t want to talk about the past, Mulder,” she admits, “I don’t want to think about the future. I just want to be here now.”

“With me?”

“Always with you.” She touches his cheek and comes away with a small drop of jello. She puts it into her mouth and glances at him as she licks it off her finger slowly. He knows that look. He knows it very well. They don’t need words now. He takes her hand and she comes to him willingly. As they walk upstairs, the stairs squeaking underneath their feet in their familiar rhythm, he thinks about the first time. He thinks about the last time. All the times he walked alone, up and down.

“Stop thinking, Mulder.” Scully tells him as if she can read his thoughts, as if she were walking through the same memories. As he leads her into their bedroom, hand on her back, he knows she doesn’t, can’t. But she remembers too. He closes the door behind them, silently. There are new memories to be made, now.


End file.
